


please stay, 'cause i think you're a saint

by fictionalportal



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blake needs a hug, Blake's Romance Novels, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, ZWEI!!!, and Yang has infinite hugs to give, only a lil bit of angst tho, takes place sometime during vol. 2 i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalportal/pseuds/fictionalportal
Summary: Three very different situations that all somehow end up with Blake in Yang's bed.





	please stay, 'cause i think you're a saint

Out of all of team RWBY, Weiss usually woke up first. She liked to get to the showers before they got too crowded, and she needed at least two cups of coffee before she could handle going to the cafeteria.

Unfortunately, having a morning person for a roommate complicated things for Blake when she started falling asleep in Yang’s bed.

***

A few days after moving into their team dorm room, Blake first considered climbing up onto Yang’s bed to read.

She was the only one in the room at the time, and the natural light was so much better in the top bunk. People sat on Blake’s bed all the time; it wasn’t a big deal. Then again, that was more out of convenience. Going up to Yang’s bed felt so much more deliberate. Still, everyone would be in class for at least another hour...

The sun sank a little lower outside and a perfect golden ray lit up Yang’s pillow. Blake took it as a sign.

Everything about reading up here made the story so much better. The book was the third in a series about two soldiers from enemy armies falling in love, one a medic and the other a sniper. The sniper had just unwittingly killed the medic’s former lover, and the medic failed to save him. Blake might have teared up at the scene if it appeared in a different novel, but this third book was a little too soapy and melodramatic. She tolerated the plot, but she was really just reading for the two soldiers’ torrid, secret meetings. They weren’t the sort of scenes one dared to read with company around. This author knew romance.

As the sun continued its descent, Blake approached the climax of the whole series. The sniper’s side was so close to winning (Blake thought--she wasn’t really keeping track of the strategic chess game), but at the last minute he defected and agreed to be taken as a prisoner of war on the condition that he could see the medic one last time. He would tell his former enemies everything, turn the tide of the war, as long as he got the chance to apologize to his beloved. When they met again, he was in a cell and she was cold, but never heartless. Despite all he’d done, she could never hate him. As they cried and kissed between the bars of the cell, Blake wondered if this would be the end of their tragic story--until she turned the page. With a quick scan of the page, she found evidence of something far less innocent than a simple kiss. Somehow the medic was inside the cell now, and the sniper’s hands were everywhere, and neither cared to stay quiet. It made no sense, logically, and Blake could not care less. _His hot skin against her palms spoke of a silent, deafening desire, and in one deft motion she reached for his--_

Keys.

Blake heard keys. Just jump, she told herself, but her body didn’t process the command fast enough. The tumblers in the lock turned too quickly, and the sun herself opened the door.

Fortunately, the sun was wearing headphones and sunglasses and didn’t immediately notice anything out of the ordinary. Maybe if Blake stayed very, very still, she could blend in.

“Blake?” Yang said removing one of her earbuds.

“Nothing,” Blake blurted out, shoving the book under Yang’s pillow.

Yang raised an eyebrow. Her gaze drifted down from Blake’s eyes to the pillow, and a sly smile spread across her face. Blake tried to hide behind her hands.

The next moment, the sound of a boot hitting wood and weight landing on the other end of the mattress told Blake that she wasn’t getting out of this.

“Whatcha readin'?” Yang asked with a glint in her eye.

Blake cleared her throat. “Homework.”

“You’re reading homework? Lame.”

“Some of us actually enjoy learning about the history of Remnant.”

Yang shrugged. “It’s alright, I guess. I meant that was a lame excuse.” She scooted closer and Blake tried to retreat. Unfortunately, there was very much a wall behind her.

“So,” Yang went on. “What are you really reading?” She kept glancing at the pillow, and when her eyes lingered on Blake for just a second too long, Blake made the mistake of letting her guard down.

Yang lunged for the pillow. Blake tried to react, but she was caught off guard by how fast Yang was. Strong and fast and powerful (and beautiful, but what did that have to do with training?). By the time Blake reached under the pillow, the book was gone.

The expression on Yang’s face could only be described as a “shit-eating grin.” Blake didn’t like the phrase, but it was really the best way of putting it. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that this was just a very embarrassing dream that she could force herself to wake up from. No such luck.

 _“Wounded Heartbeats_ , huh?” Yang read as she ogled the cover. “Do all war nurses wear push-up bras?”

With a scowl, Blake attempted to explain. “It analyzes the terrible toll of war through the microcosm of a single relationship.”

Yang did the worst possible thing imaginable and opened the book. “‘All the day’s tears faded into memory more and more as he thrusted faster and faster--”

Blake tried to snatch the book back, but Yang dodged without even looking up.

As she leapt down from the bed, Yang continued. “‘And just as the throbbing in her core became unbearable, she released a sound so loud and obscene that...”

Giving up entirely, Blake drowned out Yang’s voice by attempted to smother herself with the pillow. Surely, surely this was just a horrible nightmare.

Suddenly, the pillow was being pulled away, forcing Blake to face cruel reality once again. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Yang peeking over the edge of the bunk, holding the pillow in one hand and resting her other atop the book.

“Whatever you do, do _not_ lend this one to Ruby.”

***

The second time Blake ended up in Yang’s bed was entirely an accident. Yang was sitting in her bunk playing video games. She’d finished all of her homework for the night, but she was peripherally helping Blake review for a test. Yang never studied for exams, but Blake suspected that the rumors about her partner being a lazy student were false. Blake sat on the floor amidst dozens of flashcards, and Yang was able to define almost all of the terms correctly without hesitation. They discussed answers that either of them didn’t quite understand. Despite the annoying sounds coming from the game, Yang was actually a pretty good study buddy. Everything was going well until--

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring an umbrella!” Weiss scolded as she burst through the front door. She looked like she’d just gotten into a fight with the ocean: her dress was drenched, her shoes likely ruined, and her soaked ponytail just hung there pathetically.

Ruby followed closely behind with an equally wet and very wiggly Zwei in her arms. The dog looked as happy as Weiss was furious.

“I’m sorry, Weiss!” Ruby pleaded. “I didn't even think of it. My cloak’s waterproof.”

“Well, how does that help  _me?”_

“You could have brought your own umbrella, you know.”

“You’re the one who insisted on going for a late-night walk. If we had gone earlier like I suggested we would have missed the rain.”

As Ruby removed her hood, she was left with only one arm to restrain Zwei. The dog took advantage of the opening and wriggled free, landing on the floor with a wet fwump--and barreling straight towards Blake.

“Zwei, no!” Ruby chided.

Blake bolted up, scattering flashcards carelessly as she flew into the air. Without even thinking, she pulled herself up over the edge of Yang’s bunk.

This was enough to draw Yang’s attention away from her video game, even just for a second. Blake heard a disappointing, descending arpeggio that probably meant Yang had just lost.

“Game over,” the scroll announced.

“Aw, man. You made me lose a life, Zwei,” Yang pouted. She tossed her scroll across the room, luckily landing it on Ruby’s bed.

Blake stared down at Zwei, who was now happily rolling around on her flashcards.

Weiss threw her hands into the air. “Ruby, do something. He’s going to ruin the carpet.”

“Zwei, come,” Ruby said, holding a treat up in the air.

In a split second, Zwei lost all interest in the now damp flashcards and trotted over to Ruby. She toweled him off while Weiss changed into some dry pajamas.

Blake remained frozen, crouching at the end of Yang’s bed.

“Hey,” Yang said, poking Blake’s thigh with her toes. And that ridiculous grin was back. “Come here often?”

Blake might have been embarrassed, but she was more relieved. She finally dropped her defensive posture and let out an exhale.

***

Blake never expected it to happen the way it did the third time.

Those awful masks. Part of her hoped she’d never have to see them again, but she knew that was irrational. The White Fang wouldn’t just disappear forever after she ran away. But seeing those masks again...it was too much. They flashed across her mind every time she blinked, every time she tried to sleep. The dance had helped her take her mind off it, but soon enough the memories of dancing and music crumbled into dust--the useless, powerless kind.

The worst nights were the ones where Blake managed to fall asleep only to wake up in a cold sweat hours later, her body burning with the memory of a cold, loveless touch. All at once she felt the need to wrap herself tight in an impenetrable cocoon and throw off her blankets, stop them from caressing her crawling skin. The bed was too big and too empty, swallowing her whole. Her breathing was too loud and too shallow, her lungs desperate for oxygen but her mind bent on being as quiet as possible.

A rustling sound above her made her stop breathing altogether. She inched her head closer to the edge of the bed and found two sleepy, lilac eyes looking down at her.

“Blake? You awake?”

All Blake could manage was a terribly unconvincing nod. Her breaths were still ragged, too much of a giveaway.

“You don’t seem super okay,” Yang said.

Blake wished she would keep her voice down. Granted, she was already whispering, but it was still too loud. What if someone else woke up? It was bad enough Blake had disturbed her bunkmate. And now Yang was just waiting. Staring. Then her gaze broke away.

“Do you...wanna come up here?” Yang asked. There was an unfamiliar note of uncertainty in her voice, something that Blake never associated with Yang. It was almost like she was requesting permission just to pose the question.

Against her own will, Blake’s hands threw off the covers and her legs swung over the side of the mattress. Yang extended a hand to help her up, and a few seconds later Blake was perched next to a pair of bare legs poking out from the sheets. Yang sat up and blinked heavily. It was sort of like watching a puppy wake up from a nap.

“What happened?” Yang’s voice was just slightly hoarse, sleep still coating her vocal cords.

Blake just shook her head. It was all she thought about, all she dreamed about, and it was all too much. Words, usually her greatest love, failed her entirely.

Yang bit her lip in thought. Then she pushed her blanket off and shifted further to the left side of her bed.

It was an invitation. Yang was offering her warmth, comfort. Blake might not deserve it, after everything she’d done and put her team through, but she wanted it. And right now, she needed it. Maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the way that single sliver of moonlight snuck in through the edge of the window and lit up the soft curve of Yang’s cheek. She couldn’t fight it--she didn’t have the energy.

Blake stretched out next to Yang, careful to stay as close to the edge of the mattress as possible.

“Don’t fall off,” Yang joked. “Here.” She brought the covers up to Blake’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Blake muttered, allowing herself to move just an inch closer.

“If you ever feel like talking about stuff, both my ears work pretty well.”

Blake offered her a tiny smile. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had to give.

Yang’s own smile broadened into a half-grin, a strangely tender expression that made Blake’s stomach flip. She’d never seen it before on anyone else’s face. Not when they were looking at her, anyway. 

“Sweet dreams, Blake.” Yang rolled over and faced the wall.

The morning came faster than Blake would have liked. The gentle sun shone in through the space between the curtain and the window, coaxing Blake into that blissful semi-waking state where her brain was still mostly off. She felt warmer than usual, and she quickly realized that it was because she was curled up next to a human space heater.

The revelation was enough to startle her awake. She was still in Yang’s bed. And Yang was there, too. Blake turned over to see an absolute mess of golden hair, and Yang's limbs were splayed out as much as they could be while sharing a twin bed with another person. One of her arms fell across Blake’s side, and as Blake tuned into the contact she noticed that their feet were tangled together.

She should really get back to her own bed. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep here, just let the warm tides wash away the panic. And they had--she couldn’t recall having another nightmare. Maybe it was a fluke and she just got lucky. Or maybe, just maybe...

A creaking sound from the other side of the room startled Blake. She heard an aggressive yawn and the cracking of joints.

Weiss. Weiss was awake. And any second now, she would notice that Blake’s bed was empty. There was no way Blake could explain. It felt so much more foolish in the daylight.

Blake swore she could feel a pair of eyes watching her, and she felt her ears twitch involuntarily under her bow.

After a brief, quiet moment, footsteps headed for the door. It creaked open, then clicked shut quietly.

This was Blake’s chance--Weiss might not have seen her. She carefully slipped out of the blankets, dropped to the floor without a sound, and crawled back under her own covers. By the time Weiss returned, Blake was already slipping back into sleep.

At breakfast, Weiss simply mentioned how well-rested Blake looked.

***

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i love the quiet moments between these two and always wanted to see more of them interacting while at school.


End file.
